For The First Time
by seattlelovin-greys
Summary: MEREDITH/DEREK. After an emotional fight in which Derek storms out of the house, one of GA's most pivotal couples try to reconcile and repair their marriage.  I highly recommend you listen to Boyce Avenue's cover of "For The First Time" while reading.


FOR THE FIRST TIME

_Oh, these times are hard, yeah they're making us crazy, don't give up on me baby. Oh, these times are hard, yeah they're making us crazy, don't give up on me baby._

* * *

><p><em>She's all laid up in bed with a broken heart, while I'm drinking Jack all alone in my local bar. And we don't know how—how we got into this mad situation, only doing things out of frustration, trying to make it work, but man, these times are hard.<em>

The fight had left Derek feeling like he was winded, like all the air had been knocked clean out of him, and every breath he took felt pained. Even now, on his second beer, he could still hear every word Meredith had yelled at him. More painfully, he could hear every word he'd said back, and the way her hurt expression had mirrored his breaking heart. He simply couldn't erase that from his mind—the fact that he'd hurt her again. It seemed countless now, how often he hurt her without realizing it.

And what had they even been fighting about in the first place? He could barely remember, which meant it had been something stupid. Clearly, something not worth fighting over. Because now he was sitting at Joe's alone, the drinkers slowly dwindling off into the night, but he was still left. Still left here nursing his second, now third bottle of beer because he lacked the proper words to say "I'm sorry".

"It was work," Derek said suddenly, struck by this new light as he looked up at Joe who was wiping down the counter. "We were fighting over work. I… I came home late, and she'd made this dinner for me. Actually made it; it wasn't Chinese take-out or anything. And you know, Meredith doesn't cook. But she made this dinner… shrimp linguini, and it was sitting out cold on the dining room table with candles that had burnt down half their height. She was upstairs, she'd gotten tired of waiting. I was standing in the dining room when she came down, and she asked what'd held me up, and if I wanted to sit down so we could have dinner together." He paused, taking another swig of his beer as he remembered the moment things got so nasty. Joe had abandoned his towel on the counter, also knowing that the story was about to take a change of pace.

"I snapped," Derek said miserably, spinning one of his empty beer bottles on the slick counter—beer number one. "God, I was so awful. I threw my coat over the back of the chair, I was tired. I said something about how, I'd just eat this quickly then head on off to bed, but Meredith wanted to take our time and spend the rest of the evening together. But I had this case this afternoon, drove me to the brink of exhaustion. And to have her standing there, looking so… so like Meredith, when I just wanted to go to bed. I had no energy left. And then I yelled." Another drink of beer went down his throat as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, his body feeling weak and helpless.

"I told her she shouldn't have gone to the trouble of making dinner when she knew I'd be tired from work, and the look on her face, Joe… you should've seen her. I had to get out of there as fast as I could, but she was yelling something about how lately I was always tired and I never had time for her, and that I loved shrimp linguini." At this point, Derek laughed bitterly, the laugh sounding hollow and empty. "I was stupid. I do love shrimp linguini, but I just…" Another taste of beer. "I just couldn't get myself to wake up from this stupid haze I've been walking in. Going to work, coming back from work, sleeping. Then repeat. Never any time for Meredith, and I didn't even notice that she missed me. I didn't even notice that I missed her. But I do. And now it's too late."

He shook his head, slamming his fist down on the counter suddenly as anger overtook him, so much that he felt like he was shaking from grief. "I am so far away emotionally, she said something about that, along with other things, and d*** it, what if she leaves me? What if she's so fed up with me that she's gone by the time I get home? I can't go home." He could feel the tears hot and brimming against his eyes, threatening to pool over any second. For once, Derek set down his pride, not caring if he cried in front of Joe. Joe had seen a lot of crazy things anyhow, he was a bar owner. He'd seen it all.

"I think you need to talk to her," was all Joe said, picking up his towel again and giving Derek a shrug. "C'mon man, go talk to her."

* * *

><p><em>She needs me now, but I can't seem to find the time.<em>

The tears that stained her pillow felt cold to the touch by this point, and when Meredith could feel no more tears left to cry, she sat up, eyes red and slightly puffy. Giving herself a moment to collect her emotions, her feet touched the cold floor on her way to the linen closet, switching out her soaked pillow case with a fresh one. She breathed the scent in, surprised when it smelled of Derek and his cologne and his shaving cream and his shampoo. Overwhelmed once again, Meredith let herself fall back onto the bed, wanting to cry but again, she'd already cried most of her heart out.

It was a little over 10pm now, and she didn't know how long Derek had been gone. An hour maybe, maybe more. Whatever the time separated was, Meredith had never felt so alone. She thought back to the things they'd said, the way she'd yelled and the way he'd stormed out, terrified by it all. Was he leaving her? She didn't have any signs from him saying he'd stay, or that he'd leave. The way their marriage had been going lately, she wouldn't be surprised if he left with no strings attached.

She tiptoed downstairs quietly, thankful that most of her roommates had been gone when the fight had happened. She didn't know if she'd be able to deal with their sympathetic looks, had they been present when Derek and herself had thrown words at each other like they were knives.

Arriving in the kitchen, she searched her alcohol cabinet for something to drink and came up empty handed. "Screw me not being dark and twisty anymore, and thinking I didn't need a stash of tequila," she muttered, the only thing in the cabinet being a bottle of scotch—Derek's favorite. She eyed the red wine on the table, getting up and pouring herself a glass next to the abandoned shrimp linguini. As she sipped from the glass, too upset to even down the whole bottle quickly, she reflected on whatever had gone down that evening. "All I wanted was some time with my husband," she murmured quietly to the empty room, the candles still burning strong despite the fact that Meredith felt their marriage was somehow crumbling down.

"He's so distant. Always working. And I get that, I guess." She didn't know who she was talking to, since she was alone and the house was empty, but the talking helped calm her down a bit, so she kept going. "But call me stupid if it's out of the ordinary to want to eat dinner with Derek, with the love of my life… I shouldn't have yelled. He's tired. I know. But, I don't know what else to do."

* * *

><p><em>We don't know how, how we got into this mess is it God's test? Someone help us 'cause we're doing our best, trying to make it work, but man, these times are hard.<em>

Joe called Derek a cab. Funny though, how he didn't _feel_ drunk, yet he knew that three beers meant that it probably wasn't safe to drive. Joe had let him keep his keys because the bar owner saw Derek to the cab, and the neurosurgeon was thankful for that. The keys kept him distracted as he was driven home, the street lights passing by like little stars zooming against the window. He played with them quietly as he tried to picture the scene awaiting him at home, the quiet jingling of metal filling the cab. "Hey," he said suddenly, leaning forward to get the driver's attention. "Can we stop by somewhere so I can buy a bottle of wine?"

* * *

><p><em>But we're gonna start by drinking our cheap bottles of wine, sit talking up all night, saying things we haven't for awhile.<em>

She'd finished her glass of wine by now, sitting there feeling empty as the candles flickered on. A wary glance at the clock told her it was almost midnight, and Meredith had almost given up hope that Derek was coming home. "You'll be okay," she said to herself as she stood up slowly, bracing her weight on the oak table as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to do now. For some reason, Meredith had always believed that if something happened and Derek left the house to cool off, he'd be back before midnight. If he wasn't, then things were over.

She stared at the cold plates of pasta sitting on the table, illuminated by the soft glow that the candles cast. The light mixed with the wine must've been getting to her, because she hardly heard the front door open after the keys turned in the lock. She was standing underneath one of the cabinets that lined the wall when Derek appeared, leaning against the doorframe looking at her with sad eyes. "Hi," he said.

Meredith's eyes darted over to the clock that hung on the wall, acutely reading the time that the hands displayed. 11:59pm. _"You made it,"_ she wanted to say, but she refrained herself because she knew that it wouldn't make any sense to him. "Hi," she said instead.

A silence passed between them before Meredith spun back around to face the cabinets, opening them and looking around until she could find a container big enough to contain all the uneaten pasta. It took Derek awhile to figure out what she was doing, but when she placed the container on the table and headed back to look for something to spoon the pasta into the Tupperware, it dawned on him what she was doing.

"You don't have to do that," he said quickly, taking a small step forward. "We can eat it, we should eat it. Come on, Meredith. We're going to have dinner."

She ignored him though, coming back to the table and picking up the first plate, heavy in her hand.

"Meredith," Derek said again, louder this time, and she placed the plate back down on the table hard, before looking up at him. A small sigh left her lips and she stood there for a few seconds before she pushed on past him and up the stairs. "Meredith," Derek repeated, only softer this time, so soft that he didn't know if she'd even heard him. She was breaking his heart.

He followed her up the stairs, his heart feeling weighed down as he ascended each step, making his way into their bedroom. Once there, he noticed she'd already turned on the lamp, so that the room was somewhat lit up. The bathroom door was closed, and with a glance into the closet he saw that she'd taken her Dartmouth t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants with her. _"You can change in front of me, you know,"_ he almost said, but changed his mind and sat down on the bed instead.

Meredith emerged from the bathroom momentarily, stopping short in the doorway when she saw him sitting there, a bottle of wine next to him. "Hi," he said again, but when she didn't respond, he added, "I brought wine."

And even though she thought she hadn't any tears left to cry, Meredith felt her resolve wavering. She bit her lip, the small action making Derek's heart tighten in his chest. "I really hurt you, didn't I?" He said, words he never thought he'd say. They were words a prideful man would never dare utter.

She just stood there, and the longer she didn't move, the more Derek felt like his heart was shattering. What could he do? He'd already said too much tonight, and yet again not enough at all. "Come here," he begged gently, and after a few tense seconds, Meredith moved to sit next to him on their bed. "I'm sorry," Derek finally murmured, sighing deeply. He didn't have a clue where to start, and although the two words weren't enough, he figured they were as good a place to begin with as any.

His quiet apology stunned Meredith, so much that she turned to really look at him for the first time that night. If anything was certain, she hadn't been expecting world renowned neurosurgeon Derek Shepherd to apologize. But as she gazed into his blue eyes, she knew all at once that not only was he a world class surgeon, but he was also her husband.

"I'm sorry," he said again, choosing his next words as carefully as he could to not offend her again. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have started a fight. I was tired, but that's no excuse. It's no excuse to ignore you, Meredith." He cleared his throat before continuing, "I know it's not enough. But you are like coming up for fresh air, always. I'm a—I'm a fool for not realizing that sooner. And you know that I'll always show up, right? I will always show up, Meredith Grey-Shepherd. 'Even if I yell, even if you yell, I'm always gonna show up.'" The past conversation came to him quickly, thankfully, and Derek fit it into his speech easily. _He's always had a way with words,_ Meredith thought to herself, not letting her emotions show as she kept her eyes fixated on Derek's.

"I shouldn't have yelled," she told him, her voice so quiet that he had to lean in to hear it. "I know… Cristina called, after you left, before I started crying, and said that you had this difficult case earlier. She knew I was planning on making you dinner. And she said to take it easy on you, but it was too late by then. I never told her what time I was expecting you, and if I did, maybe she would've called sooner and I'd have known… I'm just, Derek," she finished, because she didn't know how to continue.

"What did you tell her?" Derek asked.

"I told her that you left."

"Oh, Meredith," he said, looking like he hated himself for what had happened that night. But it was okay, because Meredith thought she might hate herself too.

"It's my fault. You've been busy lately, and I knew that, and I still wanted to make dinner for you which is something I never do. So maybe I should just stick to the ordinary, and we'll be okay, and we won't have to go through this aga—" She broke down finally, her body racked by her soft sobs while Derek just sat there, frozen in place.

"Meredith. Meredith," he coaxed, reaching forward with one hand to lift her chin gently. His breath was held, afraid she'd flinch back, but she didn't. "Meredith. Please," he pleaded with her. "It's not your fault. It's not… it's not your fault, it never was. I've been busy lately, yes. But that does not make it your fault."

She kept crying, her breaths short and uneven, as Derek's chest grew even tighter. "Okay, okay," he soothed, pushing the wine back and scooting forward until he could wrap his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Meredith, I'm so, so sorry," he whispered, pulling her to him, thankful that she let him. "Don't stick to the ordinary, because we're extraordinary. Remember?"

His words were quiet and he tried to keep himself calm as he rubbed even circles on her back, over and over, until he felt and heard her sobs dying down. "It's okay. It's okay, it'll be okay. I'm sorry."

But when she'd finally stopped crying, Derek almost wished she hadn't, for the silence felt like it would swallow him up whole. And when Meredith pulled away from his grasp, Derek felt his own voice choked by the possibility of tears. "Don't," was all she said, and his brow furrowed together in confusion.

"Don't _ever_ do that to me again," the sentence was a command and an appeal all at once. Derek's eyes widened before he nodded, exhaling quickly out of relief. Finally, it looked like things were going to be okay, and that was enough to get him through the night.

"I won't. I… wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, Meredith."

"I know." She nodded, and Derek ached to feel her against his chest once again. But since she'd pulled away, he didn't know if he was "allowed" to pull her back, which on its own was stupid to think. She was his wife, after all. But Meredith had been right about him being emotionally distant. There were only a few inches in between them, but he still felt like he was miles away. Meredith had a knack for putting up walls, and Derek had always been able to knock them all down to be close to her. But this time, he'd been the one putting up walls and he hadn't even realized it. That was made this so difficult this time, so different from all the obstacles they'd gone through in the past.

"I brought wine," he said again, feeling lame and hopeless.

"I know you did," Meredith told him, letting out a long sigh. She tried to smile for him, only succeeding in turning up the corners of her mouth a few millimeters.

"Are we okay?" Derek asked her, lifting up his eyes to lock on hers. "Because I, I don't know what else to say. I don't know how else to tell you that I'm sorry."

"We're okay," Meredith nodded. She could see how much he was beating himself up over this, and she didn't want to see that torn look in his eyes anymore. He'd made things alright ten thousand times over, with the wine and the baring of his heart and the coming home before midnight. Albeit lately, she realized that what had made things okay was the fact that he was here, sitting in front of her and doing his best to reach out to her even though she was the master at pushing people away. He never left. Even when things became impossibly hard, he didn't run across the country to get away from it, and to get away from her. He loved her enough to stay and work things through for the both of them. And Meredith wasn't about to let him struggle with all the work anymore. A relationship was two-sided, and she swore to herself that she'd push even harder to make their marriage close to perfect once again.

"I love you," she told him softly, moving forward an inch and placing her hand against his cheek, cradling his warm skin against her palm. He gave her the faintest of smiles, the simple work of curving his lips fading as quickly as they'd come. "I love you," Meredith repeated, slowing the syllables to try to convey her message to him. They would be alright. She'd always known that somehow, even when he'd walked out on her that night, she'd known that he'd come back. She'd tried convincing herself otherwise, just in case he didn't show up, but she knew he would.

"I love you, too." Finally, a genuine smile appeared on Derek's lips, and the tight feeling in his chest started to ease away. He stayed there, captured by the way she was smiling at him, how her eyes were so blue he could get lost in them, the feeling of her hand against his face. "So, I uh, I brought wine," he chuckled, having said it for the first time.

"You brought wine," Meredith smiled, watching as Derek worked to get the cap off. She tilted her head as he took a sip straight from the bottle, giggling somewhat.

"What? No glasses. It's classy. Elegant," he told her, handing her the bottle so that she could take a sip. They sat there like that, with his hand on her knee as they passed the bottle back and forth until they were both buzzed from half a bottle of wine split between them. In the back of his mind Derek could remember the three beers he'd downed earlier, marveling at how they hadn't taken a large effect on his speech or motions or anything. Somehow, the wine was doing the trick, though. And as he stared at Meredith with a slightly tipsy brain, he couldn't help but lean forward and press his lips against hers. It was the first kiss they'd shared that night, and possibly the first real kiss they'd shared in quite some time.

She didn't pull away from his touch, only leaning forward, wanting what he wanted. For the first time in a long time, their minds worked as one, with only one goal between the both of them. He slipped the wine onto the nightstand as she worked to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, and he shivered each time her fingers came in contact with his skin.

Caught up in the moment, he'd never felt more alive than he did with Meredith's soft curves under his hands. He tried, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so close to her. Sex was not everything, not by far, but it sealed the evening for them. Tangled up in the cool, crisp sheets, both of them breathing hard, he rolled on top of her, bracing his weight with his arms to look down at her features.

"What?" She asked, the blush creeping onto her cheeks from the way he was grinning at her.

"Nothing," he shook his head, levering himself down to wrap her lips in his. "You're perfect. You're just perfect."

She let herself sink into each of his kisses, feeling more and more complete after each one. It was almost like the fight had never happened, even though she knew it had. And strangely enough, a part of Meredith was thankful they'd fought the way they did. The passion that became so evident even when they were almost at the point of hating each other showed her that there was something in their marriage worth saving. She knew that if they fought like that every time they fought, they would always be together.

"Do you want dinner?" She asked quietly, peering up at him. At this, Derek rolled back over next to her, staring at the ceiling with a deep sigh catching in his throat. Shrimp linguini.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Meredith forced herself out of bed, away from the warm comfort emanating from Derek's body, and wrapped herself up in his jacket that she'd tossed to the floor only moments ago. She made her way back down to the kitchen, reappearing in their bedroom minutes later with the plates of linguini balanced carefully in her hands. They served as a reminder of the things they'd said that night, but she found she didn't mind so much now. She could tell from the mixed expression sitting on Derek's face that he was just as concerned, but one reassuring smile shot in his direction and she was relieved to see him relax.

"I reheated it, hopefully it's still good."

"Of course it's still good. You made it, didn't you?" He said this with his mouth full, silently cursing himself for not having indulged in the dinner earlier. It was heavenly, to say the least. Meredith had done a good job, and he'd done an even better job of ruining their evening.

"I did. Made it with a lot of love," she smiled, feeling cheesy but also feeling that the grin Derek returned made any cheesiness worth it.

* * *

><p><em>We're smiling but we're close to tears, even after all these years, we just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time.<em>

She'd lost track of time by now, but she guessed it was close to 3am. Meredith was aware that all she had to do was turn and the time would be on the clock right behind her, but she couldn't bear to tear herself away from Derek's gaze. In the gentle light, with the way he couldn't keep his lips off hers, nothing had ever felt so close to perfect in her life. "We need to sleep," she mumbled in between kisses, when he'd let her come up for air.

"Do we?" Derek mumbled back, pulling her closer to him and kissing her neck.

"We do," she laughed softly, pushing him away with her small hand on his bare chest. He sighed, allowing her to move away to turn off the light before his arms found their way around her waist once again. The empty plates that once held their pasta lay on the floor, stacked on top of each other, the bottle completely drained of wine sitting next to them. He held her close, letting his eyes adjust in the dim light so he could see her face.

"It's a wonder we didn't wake any of them," he chuckled, referring to their housemates. She just smiled back, scooting closer to him until their heads both lay on the same pillow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, and she nodded, understanding him. She always understood him. He couldn't see how she'd understood him storming out on her that night, but for some reason or other she just understood. Derek hardly was ever an open book to her, and yet the same way he tore down her walls, Meredith tore down his just as easily. It was love.

And he refused to let himself compromise their love, and their relationship, and their marriage ever again.

"I'm sorry, too," she replied, her whisper reaching his ears like a feather, light and simple. And with that, he finally felt all doubt erase itself from his mind. See, things had gotten easy and had fallen into routine, and they'd both become lazy. After seeing the effects of their laziness, Derek and Meredith both knew they'd rather die than have a repeat of this night happen again. They'd rather die than be apart.

"I love you, Meredith," he said, his voice husky and sweet, reaching her sleep laden mind. Groggily, she opened her blue eyes to settle on him.

"I love you, too." She fell asleep shortly after, comforted by the feeling of Derek being physically and emotionally close to her once again. The miles had disappeared. And she was confident that in the morning when she woke up, he'd still be there.


End file.
